


Wine and Bitter Sweets

by NoveltyPineapple



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Bittersweet, Dubious Consent, First Time, Hand Jobs, I don't know when or where this takes place and I don't care, I guess maybe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:58:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoveltyPineapple/pseuds/NoveltyPineapple
Summary: A comfortable conversation turns heated and things finally come to a head (haha)





	Wine and Bitter Sweets

Reuenthal set his glass down and glanced at his friend. His gaze landed on a grinning face. Mittermeyer’s cheeks were dusted with pink from the wine, but his eyes were still sharp. He was in high spirits, having returned safely and successfully from another campaign. No arrangements were made, but they both knew they would celebrate his return to the main force with this cherished tradition: sharing a bottle (or several) of wine and catching up on the ins and outs of the Empire’s military strategy and structure, gossips and goings-on. 

The wine flowed and the talk turned from political to philosophical and then personal and back again. Mittermeyer reprimanded Reuenthal for cloaking his feelings in dark pessimism and Reuenthal insisted there was nothing under the cloak but more bitterness. Every turn of the conversation mirrored one they had had a hundred times before. It was comfortable and worn and, though he tried to hide it, it was more than the wine that made Reuenthal’s shoulders relax. 

A heavy hand on his shoulder reminded him that even here there were things that threatened to tear him apart and drown him. Mittermeyer leaned through the space between them, pulling Reuenthal in so he could deliver what he was about to say safely away from the ears of the few others scattered around the officer’s lounge. Reuenthal barely heard the words Mittermeyer whispered and he gained none of their meaning. He was focused on the weight of his hand and the smell of wine on his breath and the heat between them. All other thoughts were obliterated when Mittermeyer lost his balance and braced himself with a hand on Reuenthal’s thigh. Even after he righted himself, Reuenthal could feel the burning imprint his friend had left on him. He chastised himself for the feeling — what a rash and youthful mood he was in tonight.

Reuenthal would have been content to maintain this moment forever, but when Mittermeyer suggested they cut their celebration off, he agreed.

A change in location was no match for their conversation, which continued unabated as they walked half-aimlessly down the ship’s corridors. If Reuenthal made note of every self-deprecating remark he made he would never have time for anything else, but one such comment set Mittermeyer off on a tirade. Reuenthal did his best not to smirk. Mittermeyer’s face was made for righteous anger and he didn’t want to see it spoil into a pout when he realized Reuenthal’s opinions of himself were unswayable.

“You may not be a good man in everyone’s eyes, but you’re a good friend to me!” Mittermeyer ended emphatically, “And you could be a good man, if you gave it half a try.”

Reuenthal’s half-hidden smirk faded. Something roiled deep inside him, rising to the surface before he could check it. Mittermeyer was a sharp man, but he could be so damned naive. Reuenthal would think he was being mocked if he didn’t know the fierce generosity and genuine nature of the man beside him. It was almost cruel of him to stand there and call him a good man and a good friend when he knew more about the depths of Reuenthal’s depravity than anyone else. If Mittermeyer wouldn’t believe his words, Reuenthal would show him his own cruelty. In a motion that was half stumble, half push, he pinned Mittermeyer against the wall of the dark corridor.

He was close to Mittermeyer now, face to face. Close enough to see his eyelashes and the few fine blond hairs he missed while shaving. Close enough to feel the heat off Mittermeyer’s burning cheeks. Reuenthal wanted to blame something like gravity for guiding his lips to the ones in front of him. Some kind of unknown cosmic force that even he couldn’t fight... but he would never let himself be so powerless. As his mind tried to sink into the bliss of Mittermeyer’s firm lips, he mustered his strength and pulled back. He wished that instant hadn’t allowed him note how perfect they were, how much better than he had ever imagined, and how right it felt to finally take them, but it was plenty of time. It felt like eons.

He took a breath, but the terse apology already forming on his lips was stolen. Mittermeyer pushed forward and brought their lips together again, harder this time, and Reuenthal felt his escape blocked off by Mittermeyer’s hands on his ass. The strong, thick fingers Reuenthal had always admired dug into his flesh through his uniform pants and sent a burning wave of desire through him. This was a coordinated counter-attack. 

Reuenthal decided the best tactic was an aggressive retaliation. He pushed Mittermeyer harder into the wall, opening their kiss up into something wet and possessive. Mittermeyer’s lips parted more readily than Reuenthal expected and his tongue slid into Mittermeyer’s mouth hungrily. Reuenthal buried his hands in Mittermeyer’s blond hair and was taken aback by how soft if was. Soft and thick and a perfect anchor for him to hold Mittermeyer still and push their next kiss further and deeper, earning him a moan from Mittermeyer that shook him to his core.

Riding on the tide of this victory, Reuenthal turned his focus to the battle’s second front. He pressed his knee between Mittermeyer’s legs and felt him shudder. Reuenthal felt with a rush that Mittermeyer was half hard already. Had he also been secretly strategizing all night? One of Mittermeyer’s hands left Reuenthal’s ass and gripped the back of his uniform, using this leverage to pull himself up and grind hard against Reuenthal, whose breath was stolen for the second time that night.

Mittermeyer tried to set up an even pace and Reuenthal wanted nothing more than to meet each roll of his hips, to sync up and slip into harmonious bliss. He allowed himself to indulge as long as he could before his pride overwhelmed him. He knew his only hope at regaining the upper hand was to set Mittermeyer off balance. He pushed his arm between them and shoved Mittermeyer back against the wall again, snaking both hands down to navigate around Mittermeyer’s uniform and swiftly unfasten his pants. He palmed Mittermeyer’s hard bulge and earned a satisfying hiss. He gripped Mittermeyer’s cock and brought his other hand back up to cradle his face, reconnecting their lips as he stroked as roughly as the tight space between them would allow. 

Low groans and growls rumbled through Mittermeyer’s broad chest and the sound was the sweetest music Reuenthal had ever heard. After a few hard strokes, Mittermeyer could no longer maintain the kiss. His lips were too busy echoing the sounds of his pleasure to return Reuenthal’s advances. Reuenthal dragged his lips over the fair stubble on Mittermeyer’s jawline and nipped at the crook of it. Mittermeyer’s heavy breathing filled his ears as he buried his face in Reuenthals shoulder. His moans spilled hot over Reuenthal’s neck until he could barely breathe himself.

Mittermeyer gasped when Reuenthal pulled has hand away from him. Reuenthal quickly unfastened his own pants and slipped his cock into his hand against Mittermeyer’s. He resuming the pace more slowly, training his long, slender fingers to handle both cocks. A bead of precum slipped out of Reuenthal at the heat of Mittermeyer against him and the new whimpers he revealed as his pleasure mounted. 

Reuenthal regained his previous pace and savored every sound and every breath and every twitch Mittermeyer made. He began to wonder if he was this noisy with his wife, but the thought struck him like cold steel and he tightened his fingers, giving their heads more friction as they passed through. Mittermeyer choked out a gasp and Reuenthal felt the other man’s knees weaken. Before he had a chance to react, Mittermeyer’s hand joined his own around their hot cocks. So he wanted this after all, Reuenthal thought with his last wisps of rationality. Their fingers overlapped and suddenly, everywhere that Reuenthal’s fingers couldn’t reach was assaulted with new sensation. Mittermeyer’s hips bucked forward into their joint hands and his breath caught in his throat and his hot release dripped over Reuenthal’s cock and fingers.

The searing heat dripped down his shaft and Reuenthal felt himself tighten like a bowstring. His hand departed from between them and flew to Mittermeyer’s hair, accidentally smearing Mitttermeyer’s fresh cum into his own bangs. Mittermeyer’s hand remained, dropping his own cock and encircled Reuenthal’s throbbing length. Reuenthal thrust hard into Mittermeyer’s thick, muscular hand and he was met with equal strength. Mittermeyer worked his cock expertly, as if all the times Reuenthal imagined this had somehow added to Mittermeyer’s skill. Reuenthal’s hips rolled fluidly and he used the hand in Mittermeyer’s hair to slam their lips back together as he came undone, groaning and gasping into his mouth and spilling cum onto the front of Mittermeyer’s uniform. 

Reuenthal could almost swear his body dissolved. He was nothing in that moment except the sweet, raging pleasure of this long sought fulfillment. This wasn’t the result of a night spent drinking or a single conversation. This was the culmination of every conversation, every glance, every touch, every stressful minute spent waiting to find out if they would both make it back alive. For a moment, he and Mittermeyer, together, was all there was in the vast universe. Reuenthal cursed his own returning senses when they told him it couldn’t last forever.  
  
He wasn’t ready to let go, and it seemed Mittermeyer wasn’t either. Their bodies still sought each other and Mittermeyer pulled him in close. Reuenthal just caught sight of Mittermeyer’s heavy eyes, soft with affection, before he was too close to focus. Mittermeyer’s lips pecked warm kisses on his cheek and jaw and lips. Reuenthal captured them in his again, desperate to keep the moment going and feeling like everything would shatter if either of them spoke. He tried to convey through bruised lips and gentle hands that Mittermeyer was the only thing that had ever made him feel warm. 

He didn’t know if his meaning, his heart and feelings which he could only bare this way, were making it through to his friend, but they stayed like that, exchanging slow, warm kisses and tender breaths, for a long time. 

A sound far down the adjacent corridor brought them slowly and reluctantly to their senses. Reuenthal savored a few final moments of slow breaths before they parted. No words had passed between them still. Mittermeyer cleared his throat, but left it at that. They wordlessly righted their clothes, as much as possible. Mittermeyer noticed the stain on his uniform and tried to wipe it with his sleeve. Reuenthal offered a handkerchief, but the smears only became more visible against the soft black fabric.

“We’re making it worse,” Reuenthal muttered. The accidental resonance of his words with what they’d just done stung him.

“I suppose we should find a more private room,” Mittermeyer sighed. Reuenthal guessed his friend’s head still swam from the wine.

“We should part here,” Reuenthal’s words were punctuated by the click of his boot as he turned to leave.

“Reuenthal, wait,” Mittermeyer’s words were enough to stop him, but he seemed to have trouble finding more “...What do we part as?”

“Mittermeyer,” Reuenthal turned his eyes away, “As always, we part as friends.”  
The word followed Reuenthal down the hall as he left his friend in the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and suffering with me.


End file.
